Lady Tzara
by Cynamin
Summary: First of my "Journal of the Observer" stories - Colleen Cunningham is introduced to the world of Immortals.


##  Journal of the Observer: Lady T'zara

by Cynamin

Author's Note: The Highlander Immortal premise obviously does not belong to me. T'zara also does not belong to me, she belongs Stacey Rathbun, who kindly let me use her character and our breakfast arguement for this story. Colleen Cunningham is mine, as is the barely mentioned cousin, Robin, who will appear in later stories. 

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_"Curiosity killed the cat."___

_Colleen Cunningham has an amazing knack for being in the right place at the right time - or should that be the wrong place at the wrong time? On her travels, chance has brought her to encounter Immortals, vampires, elves, and things that go bump in the night. She is the Observer._   


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**Journal Entry #1**

I haven't kept a journal since I was required to in the sixth grade. Never saw the reason to. I mean, I wasn't planning on having one to pull out for the hypothetical grandchildren. I always though "when I was your age" stories were incredibly boring. I always preferred looking at Grandma's photo albums to hearing parts of her journal. If anything, that's how I was planning on remembering the past. Through photos. And that's how I got in this mess in the first place. 

Life can go by so fast, or so slow. Recent events have made me realize that. Not only that, but I suddenly realized that my life is more likely to go by very fast. My life flashed before my eyes today, and I had to make every effort to catch it. So, after eleven years, I'm keeping a journal again. Because, unlike some, my life goes by so fast. 

That "some" means Lady T'zara. She's at the heart of this. My employer, my sparring partner, my teacher . . . my friend. And immortal. Thousands of years old with no end in sight. Immortal. I'm not sure how old she is, she won't tell me. But she's seen more history than they could ever teach in school. I never really thought about death myself. I never thought about my own mortality until I met someone who didn't have it. I never faced the thought of dieing until today. 

I first encountered "Lady" T'zara two months ago. She doesn't like me calling her that, but it's sort of expected. It's our joke. I'd just gotten out of college, and had no clue what I was planning to do with my life. I had a degree in computer programming, some money in my pocket, and a world to explore. I was in California playing tourist when I saw her. 

Okay, so nice young women aren't supposed to wander bad parts of big cities at night alone. I've never been bothered, so I wasn't worried. Then, I heard the swords. Oh, I know what you're thinking - swords? What I heard was the sound of footsteps and metal clanging against metal. It was when I came around the corner that I saw the swords. Two figures battling it out under a street lamp. One was large musceled, looked masculine from a distance, with slow but powerful movements. The second figure was smaller, clearly feminine with long, dark hair, her movements deadly quick. That was T'zara. 

I said that I keep a photo album. Well, I never go anywhere without my camera. It paid off then. I pulled it out and began to snap off pictures as fast as I could - just as the woman beheaded the man. Just like that, one clean sweep, beheaded! Needless to say, I was aghast. And then all hell broke loose. 

It was like standing in the middle of a lightning storm - and I wasn't standing at the middle of it. The woman was. I ducked behind some crates for cover, fear for life and limb blanking my thoughts. Still, I must have kept taking pictures, because when I got to my hotel 40 minutes later I found I'd used an entire roll of film. 

As soon as the stores opened the next day I took that roll of film to one of those quick processing places. The pictures were - are - amazing. And I really didn't have a clue what to do with them. But I had a place to start - a clear image of the winner's face. 

I'll skip how exactly I found her, or where. I did, however, manage to match a name to the woman in my photos. Eve Parsons, aka Evelyn Paterson, aka Erica Price, and more, going back years with the same face. Finally, the oldest name I could find, and oddly enough the first one I found. One Evangelin Pierce, in portarit painted in the early 1700s. She was a mystery to me, and I could never pass up a good mystery. In an impulsive moment I decided to confront the strange, sword weilding, over 200-year old but still looking great, woman. 

I knocked on the door early one sunny afternoon. There she was, the woman in the portrait, looking at me warrily through the partially open door. "Yes?" was all she said. 

"Eve Parsons?" I asked. She nodded. "Evangelin Pierce?" I continued, dieing to see if I was right. 

She frowned, stared at me intently, and opened the door. I entered with a small smile, incredibly proud of my deductions. I heard the door close behind me - and suddenly there was a swor at my neck. I wasn't smiling anymore. 

"Who are you? Why are you here?" she demanded. 

Her eyes flashed angrily as I stuttered out my introductions. "Colleen," I said. "My name's Colleen Cunningham." 

She continued to glare at me, sword held by my throat. "And why are you here? How did you find me? Speak up girl!" 

So I told her about the duel I'd seen. And then I told her about the photographs. Finally, I decided to try something to ensure my life. I told her that if she killed me the photgraphs would be released to the public. 

The woman sighed. Finally, she removed the sword from my neck, and I exhaled in relief. I then told her how I'd tracked her down. How I'd seen the portrait by chance and been amazed by the resemblence. I suddenly blurted, "So you really are Evangeline Pierce? Wow, that makes you almost 300 years old!" 

And the woman began to laugh. Just a chuckle that made me wonder just how old she really was - is. She walked into the living room, and I followed her. "So," she began, "What do you want?" 

I was at a loss. I hadn't really thought this encounter through. So I admitted that it had been simple curiousity that brought me here, that and my love of a good mystery. 

The woman stood up and began to pace. We argued, but I think I convinced her that I meant no harm. Then, she admitted something to me. She said she was worried. If I could find her, what was to stop someone else? Someone who wasn't just curious. 

Well, one thing led to another, and now T'zara's my employer. Yeah, her real name is T'zara. At least, I think that's her real name. She told me about Immortals, explained "the game" as she called it. Not much of a game, I'd say, chopping off people's heads. Ugg! But, anyway, I've found a use for my computer skills. I keep her accounts - her identities - straight. I've created a life for her, as far as records go. I enjoy it - it's a challenge, and the pay is good. I have even started helping some other Immortals in the same way, keeping their lives straight. It's amazing how wealthy some of them are. I guess if you live forever you learn how to invest. 

We bicker a lot, T'zara and I. I don't think she completely trusts me not to try and make money off her secrets, and I don't completely trust her not to kill me in order to protect those same secrets. So, we bicker. I remind her that if she kills me her information goes public, she reminds me that I'd still be dead. We insult each other, generally carry on - it's an odd sort of fun. Sometimes, we then take those fights to a physical level - she's teaching me how to use a sword. Not that I think I'll ever need to, but I realize that hanging out with Immortals could end quite abruptly for me. So, I'm learning to sword fight. She gave me my sword - it's a seventeenth century German rapier with wolves on the hilt. Beautiful thing, I haven't told her how much that meant to me. I enjoy out sparring sessions too much, both with words and swords. 

Then, sometimes, when the fighting's done, we'll just talk. Most of the time she asks questions, and she tells about her life. It's amazing to hear first hand accounts from centuries past. Then, sometimes, I talk about me - my childhood, my family. It's nice to have someone to talk to. I'm still traveling, but I'm spending more and more time with T'zara. I've decided I like it this way. I'm going to buy myself a better lap top so that I can keep track of various Immortal stuff even when I'm on the road. I already carry my sword with me everywhere. 

I came back to town today, after spending a weekend with me cousin Robin in L.A. My first stop was to see T'zara, to see if there was anything we needed to do. It was also, she decided, "pay day." So, we went to the bank together. We never got to the bank, though. I mean, we were there, outside, taking a short cut behind the building. Someone had decided to make a withdrawal another way - with a gun. We saw him through the window, holding a gun on the employees. Then, he saw us, and shot in panic. 

It would have been me. I would be dead now, I wouldn't be writing this. But T'zara saw what was coming, and she jumped in the middle. She took the bullet, and "died" for me. For me! 

Now, I knew it wouldn't kill her, permanently. Or at least I knew it intellectually. But that didn't make seeing her die any easier. I realized something today - T'zara is my friend, perhaps closer than any other have. And when she came to and we went out seperate ways for the day, I went back to my hotel room. I realized it was possible for me to be killed in someway that had absolutly nothing to do with T'zara. 

So, I changed my computer program. The one that's supposed to make my files on T'zara and Immortals public if I don't tell it not to once a week. Now, instead, the files will be deleted. One weeks absence from my computer and - as far as the computerized world is concerned - T'zara will have never existed. I don't want Immortals to die just because I was hit be a stray bullet, or fell down a set of stairs. Changing the program was the least I could do. 

I'm not telling T'zara what I did, though. I like our fights too much to let go of that silly threat. She's my friend, buy I still need ammunition.   



End file.
